


The Fruit Conundrum

by love_in_mind_palace (mysleepyhead)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Rimming, Smut, and there is sex, blowjob, handjob, i didn't know that was possible, i listened to froot by marina and the diamonds while writing it lol, idk what else to tag, it turned out to be quite fluffy, there are fruits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 04:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysleepyhead/pseuds/love_in_mind_palace
Summary: Sherlock watched as John picked up a strawberry and bit down.“Mmm very cold. Wanna see how cold it is?”Turned out it was a rhetorical question.Because John didn’t give Sherlock a chance to answer. Next thing Sherlock knew was a cold soft lip tasting of strawberry, holding said fruit between the teeth, crashing over his mouth. One hand grabbed his hair keeping him in his place. One hand softly cradled his cheek.





	The Fruit Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

> Written from an anon prompt. Because I asked for kinky prompt on tumblr. This is the first work. There are many prompts. So there will be more works. I hope you like this.  
> Thanks for the beta work Maria.

 

Sherlock eyed John suspiciously who had picked a rather large pomegranate from the fruit section at the supermarket. One pomegranate was not the cause of the suspicion. One fruit is okay. But actually for the past fifteen minutes John had been loading the shopping cart with a rather wide range of fruits.

 

Five options ran through Sherlock’s mind

  * John wanted to buy fruit for Sherlock to experiment with.
  * John wanted Sherlock to eat more fruit.
  * John wanted to eat more fruit.
  * John likes to look at fruit.
  * John had invited someone for dinner.



 

Sherlock decided it must be the worst one.

 

“Mycroft!!” Sherlock shouted and realized by the look John threw him that it was a bit loud.

 

“Where is Mycroft?” John’s head did a whole one eighty degree. “Where did you see him?”

 

“You have invited Mycroft for dinner.” Sherlock realized that the expression on his own face was bordering on pouty. Didn’t matter. He is ready to bury himself under the Thames if John was inviting Mycroft for dinner. Pouty is nothing.

 

 

“Who said anything about inviting Mycroft? Because I didn’t. And why the hell would I invite him all of a sudden?”

 

“Because your utter desperation of socializing with him just because you and me are in a relationship is sometimes too obvious. For the last three months Mycroft appeared at our flat for at least ten times which is seventy five percent greater than the average.” Sherlock glared at John.

 

“And?” John raised one of his eyebrows.  Which made exactly three and a half creases on his forehead.

 

“So I deduced that you are buying fruits because you invited Mycroft over for dinner.”

 

“No.” John gave a small answer and then paused to look at the orange in his hand.

 

“So you haven’t invited him? What’s the cause of this much fruit then?” Sherlock pointed at the shopping cart.

 

“I am simply craving a fruit salad….Sherlock are you allergic to any fruit?”

 

“Yes. Kiwi. Why?”

 

“Just asking.” John threw a look over the kiwis displayed and turned with the cart. Sherlock followed with a cheerful mind, because John was headed for the payment and that meant an end to this tedious shopping spree. His interest in shopping dissociated just after picking up his favourite jam.

 

 

 

 

The aforementioned fruit salad didn’t make an appearance on the dinner table that night. Later in bed, squeezing his face on John’s shoulder, Sherlock mumbled, “You didn’t eat a single fruit the whole day.”

 

“Why is that bugging you Sherlock?” John might have let out a sigh. Was it from the exhaustion from sex, or from Sherlock’s question, he wasn’t sure.

 

“I don’t know. Everything bugs me all the time, you know that.”

 

“Drop it. Leave me and my fruits alone.” John slapped lightly on Sherlock’s bum.

 

“Okay.” Sherlock obliged. For then.

 

 

*******

 

 

“Tell me Sherlock. If I asked you to rank all the fruits I bought yesterday, from your most favourite to your least favourite, what would be the order” John asked over his cup of morning tea.

 

Sherlock concentrated over John’s face for a moment. Deadpan expression. It’s frustrating sometimes to not know the exact context of a question.

 

“I have no interest in your salad.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

 

“Just answer the damn question.”

 

“Whatever” Sherlock rolled his eyes again. “I guess Strawberry, orange, cherries, peach, Pomegranate. Who the hell eats pomegranate? That tastes awful.”

 

“Pomegranate tastes fine. And way healthier than the teeth rotting sweets you prefer..”

 

Sherlock went back to the newspaper in an attempt to shut John off. Which must have worked because he did so and went to the kitchen.

 

Sherlock poked his head in the kitchen in the afternoon to see John cleaning one rack of the fridge and putting a bowl of what looked like fruit salad in it. Ah. At last.

 

Surprisingly the fruit didn’t make appearance again at dinner.

 

Sherlock was dying to ask John again but wanted to keep to his word of not asking any questions.

 

 

 

 

 

“What..is..that?”

 

Sherlock was sitting on the bed, stopped midway of removing his t-shirt when John walked into the bedroom, naked, with the aforementioned bowl.

 

John gave Sherlock a look of Don’t ask silly question. It was almost like looking in a mirror. Funny how they had picked up on each other’s mannerisms over the years.

 

“Sorry wrong question. What is that doing in our bedroom.”

 

“I have a craving.”

 

“I thought after dinner is mostly reserved for sex.”

 

“I crave both.” John walked closer with the bowl in hand and placed it on the side table with a thud.

 

"My god that's cold." John shook his hand.

 

Sherlock watched as John picked up a strawberry and bit down.

 

"Mmm very cold. Wanna see how cold it is?"

 

Turned out it was a rhetorical question.

 

Because John didn't give Sherlock a chance to answer. Next thing Sherlock knew was a cold soft lip tasting of strawberry, holding said fruit between the teeth, crashing over his mouth. One hand grabbed his hair keeping him in his place. One hand softly cradled his cheek.

 

Sweet and sour juice flowed between their lips. Sherlock felt the piece of fruit being pushed into his mouth.

 

It was the best strawberry Sherlock had ever tasted. Which was impossible, but somehow true. The cause may have been that it was mixed with John's flavour. Two sets of teeth bit down on the fruit together, juice flowed from the corner of his mouth. A weird rhythm of chewing , sucking and kissing. Unfamiliar but strangely good. The fruit was gone slowly and Sherlock felt a pressure of a tongue. He opened his lips with a moan and a cold tongue swept in like a reptile.

 

The grab on his hair tightened and teeth caught his lower lip. A ghost of a bite. But that lasted for only a few seconds.

 

John didn't stop at just making Sherlock eat the fruit. He continued on Sherlock's lips as if he hadn't eaten for days. Moaning in his throat, thumb continuing to brush over cheekbones. Sherlock felt John's knee nudging at his groin softly.

 

Sherlock's mind felt a bit dizzy.

 

For what seemed like a decade after John released Sherlock, the tongue, now warm, gave a lick over his tingling lips.

 

It took Sherlock some time to regain his focus to look into John's face which had a smirk plastered on it.

 

"One down, four more to go."

 

Sherlock tried to understand what John was talking about, but that proved quite impossible as John shoved and dragged him to bed and pinned his hands over his head. Then dragged Sherlock’s t-shirt all the way up, trapping both of his hands.

 

“Should I ask what your true intentions are?” Sherlock blinked at John.

 

“I love it when I make your brain stop working.” John bent over Sherlock to place a sloppy kiss on his mouth.

 

“How was the strawberry?”

 

“Best I’ve ever eaten.” Sherlock managed between kisses.

 

“Good. Very good.”

 

John’s right hand was suddenly busy doing something. Then John sat up, his legs on both sides of Sherlock’s torso.

 

 

 

There was a slice of orange in John’s hand.

 

“Stay very still Sherlock.” Sherlock watched as john popped the fruit in his mouth and bent over.

 

Suddenly there was an extremely cold and tingling sensation on Sherlock’s nipple. Sherlock flinched for a bit at the contact. But as the seconds passed, it was a crushing sensation concentrated on one spot. Cold sticky juice dripping down and a slick tongue ravishing every drop of it. John licked the juice and bit down on Sherlock’s nipple simultaneously. John’s free was busy with the other nipple, brushing over it, making it tighten. Sherlock threw his head back, hitting the headboard. Didn’t matter. Sherlock would break the headboard if it meant for John to do what he was doing.

 

 

John’s right hand put pressure on Sherlock’s stomach and Sherlock realized his body had arched off the bed. Aching for more contact.

 

John had moved on to the other nipple and his tongue was doing the thing it did best. Swirling around, teasing, making Sherlock shake all over. Sherlock knew he was getting very hard everywhere.

 

“Ah!”

 

A moan escaped Sherlock’s throat and he started to wiggle under John’s attention. Nipples getting oversensitive with the stimulation. His eyes were watering.

 

John raised his head with a smile on his face. Sherlock realized it was getting harder for himself to keep his eyes open. Just like always. The things John did to him.

 

John got closer and a pair of soft lips upon his own made Sherlock open his mouth. Two hands holding his upper arms to the bed, hard but gentle.

 

The taste of sweet orange and John enveloped his taste buds. Orange felt like nectar. John felt like oxygen.

 

John moaned in Sherlock’s mouth and the sound travelled directly to Sherlock’s cock. Sherlock let out a whimper. He wanted to throw his legs but they were trapped under John’s.

 

He didn’t know when he closed his eyes again. But Sherlock felt the pressure on his hands gone and John freed his hands from the t-shirt. Two open palms dragged over his body and then those two hands were removing his pyjamas. Soft lips tracing his stomach, raining kisses and bites on the skin, a swirl of tongue around the navel and then the lips were travelling south.

 

Sherlock had no idea what John put into his mouth in the meantime because he was losing himself every second, but along with John’s tongue there was an additional sensation. Pieces of fruit (it must be fruit) dragged along his cock. It was overwhelming and too much and too good all at the same time. The warm insides of John’s mouth and the cold from the fruit. Sherlock’s mouth fell slack and his eyes were threatening to roll back into his skull.

 

Sherlock’s free hand found John’s hair.

 

John went on all the same, gradually raising his speed. Sherlock felt his fingers getting buried in John’s hair further. Nails were digging in the scalp. But Sherlock was helpless. All he could do was letting out moan after moan while John’ skilled tongue worked mercilessly on him. It was almost cruel.

 

 

Heat started to coil in Sherlock’s abdomen. His bollocks starting to tighten under John’s palm. He felt his cock hit the back of John’s throat and realized his back had arched up from the bed again.

 

He was close, very close. Too close. Any second the hit of sweet release was gonna find it’s way and then John would devour him like he always does and…

 

 

 

That didn’t happen because after bringing Sherlock to the fringe of release, John suddenly let go, his lips making an obscene slurp as he released Sherlock from his mouth.

 

An involuntary whine left Sherlock’s throat. His body was shaking from exhaustion. Sherlock was sure that his toes were numb.

 

“Don’t whine. You are not coming like that. I won’t let you.”

 

Before Sherlock could complain more, two strong hands flipped him over, dragging his arse up high like an offering. Sherlock shoved his face in his hand and breathed through his mouth.

 

“You are coming with my tongue in your arse.”

 

John’s hand parted Sherlock’s arse cheeks and a soft fingertip trailed over the crack. Sherlock thrust upward, seeking more contact.

 

Then the soft pressure was gone for a second.

 

“My tongue and some cherries.” John chuckled softly.

 

 

 

 

When the cold fruit touched his hole, Sherlock started to shake all over again. His arsehole clenched at the cold sensation but that didn’t last long. Because two hands parted his cheeks, making Sherlock part his legs even more and a cold wet mouth sloppily engulfed over his arsehole.

 

Sherlock screamed in his hand, a muffled scream when John’s cold tongue probed his tight hole over and over. And despite the coldness, Sherlock felt himself getting loose.

 

He was close to the brink of orgasm again and when John reduced the pressure on his hole slightly, Sherlock almost panicked that he was gonna leave him hanging again.

 

The fear was pointless as Sherlock realized John actually wrapped one hand around his aching cock and then his hand and mouth were both working vigorously.

 

Sherlock didn’t know if it was minutes or hours, but he came and almost saw stars. He screamed and screamed but John didn’t stop. Probing him with his tongue mercilessly through his orgasm. His hand milked out the last of Sherlock and Sherlock had to drag himself out of John’s hand when it became unbearable due to hypersensitivity.

 

Sherlock breathed through his mouth for almost a minute and dragged his body up, facing John and saw John was still hard. The tip of his cock glistening and almost purple, John’s lips red and swollen.

 

Sherlock leaned in to reciprocate but a hand on his chest stopped him, then dragged him down so that they were lying face to face.

 

“Let me?” Sherlock’s voice was almost like a plea.

 

“Your hand will do for tonight. I need your mouth for something else.”

 

 

 

John leaned in for the bedside table and came back with a piece of fruit between his teeth. Sherlock took the hint and wrapped his hand around John’s hard erection, then leaned in for a kiss.

 

The peach tasted like god had crafted that fruit with his own hands. Soft fruit, a pair of soft lips. Sherlock was almost sure he would get hard again. John’s heavy breathing was over his face.

 

He tugged at John’s bottom lip with his teeth, increasing the pressure, earning a whimper in return from John whose nails were digging in his bicep, his hold almost bruising.

 

Sherlock increased the pressure on John’s cock with his hand, on John’s mouth with his own.

 

John started to buck his hip into Sherlock’s fist, a series of low whines escaped his mouth, his body starting to shake a little. Getting close to his own release.

 

Sherlock dragged his palm along the length of John’s, maintaining the pressure and John threw his head back, breaking the contact of their lips.

 

The he was coming in hot gushing liquid all over Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock kissed him through his orgasm, absorbing the cries, tasting the array of flavours in John’s mouth. Peach, cherry, pineapple, a hint of orange and strawberry. A whole John flavoured fruit salad inside his mouth.

 

 

 

“You are getting more cunning with each day John.” Sherlock batted his eyelashes at his boyfriend after they had settled under the sheets.

 

“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about.” John tried hard to hide his grin, failing miserably.

 

 

 

“That was good John.” Sherlock felt his cheeks heating up.

 

“That was, wasn’t it? Look at you blushing and all. You posh thing.” John chuckled. His one hand ruffling Sherlock’s curls.

 

“You have succeeded anyway. To be honest, with that method, you could administer poison to me and I will take it happily. Because while I mostly despise fruits, you made me eat at least three tonight. You have some skills.” Sherlock bit down on his own lips.

 

“Umm. Must be your genius rubbing off on me” Johns snuggled closer to place a kiss on Sherlock’s lips.

 

“Thanks for not using the pomegranate. That would end up bad.” Sherlock returned the kiss eagerly.

 

“I am sure one day I will make you eat that too.”

 

“You are getting awfully proud with your skill Doctor. You shouldn’t be.” Sherlock chuckled and grabbed a fistful of John’s behind dragging him closer.

 

“Maybe next time, besides my dick, a banana will go up in your arse. That will be lovely. A banana in you arse, my dick in your mouth. My god, just thinking about that makes me almost hard again.” John giggled.

 

“That sounds like a very nice arrangement John. I can participate willingly. I never asked you, what’s your favourite?”

 

“Fruit?

  
  
“Yes.”

 

“I am not surprised that you haven’t deduced that yet. Given how oblivious you are to most things around you.”

 

“Okay don’t tell.” Sherlock pouted.

 

Sherlock felt hot breath once again on his face in the darkness. Warm tongue trailed on his lower lip and a soft whisper.

 

 

“This one.”

 

*******

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say Hi to me at [tumblr](http://love-in-mind-palace.tumblr.com)  
> I love kudos and comments and prompts. :)


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